


use the sleeves of my sweater (let's have an adventure)

by pirateygoodness



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 00:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14249454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: This started as a prompt about Amaya's feelings on Zari's flannel shirts, and accidentally ended in fic. The gentlest, softest domestic fluff about shirts you've ever read.





	use the sleeves of my sweater (let's have an adventure)

Zari never really thought about her clothes before the Waverider. She's pretty sure - no, she _knows_ , the flannel shirts started after she arrived. 

Zari who spent so long keeping her wardrobe down to three shirts and a week of underwear and a pair of jeans she was never not wearing, because that's what fit best in her go bag. It took her three days just to feel alright leaving her bag in her room, longer than that to feel okay owning more than she could carry. 

Amaya takes her to the fabrication room, sometime in her first week. She's so proud, so happy to teach Zari about the Waverider and there's more to it than Zari ever imagined. A whole room just to _make things_ , the idea of it is overwhelming. When Amaya smiles at Zari and tells her that Gideon will make anything she wants, Zari hardly knows where to begin. 

She hasn't had the luxury of choosing her clothing in years. 

"Something soft," she tells Gideon, tentatively. It still feels weird, speaking to the wall like it's going to answer her back. 

Gideon's reply makes Zari start, even though she's expecting it. Talking to the wall is one thing but having the wall _talk back_ is yet another. "Of course," Gideon says. 

A little hologram pops up from the fabricator platform, a picture of what looks like a sweater, draped like there's a body filling it out. It looks like something Sara would wear, which - no. She flicks past that, through three more styles but none of them feel quite right. Zari feels herself getting flustered, her cheeks getting a little warm with Amaya watching. She doesn't know Amaya well enough to know if she can trust that her soft little smile, the crinkle of her eyes, is as kind as it looks. 

After the fourth time Zari flicks past an option Amaya steps forward. "Here," she says. She taps a few settings, and the picture on the display shows a button-down shirt, in what looks like a plaid pattern. "Like this?" 

Amaya looks up, those kind eyes suddenly trained fully on Zari. She can't believe she hasn't noticed yet, just how deep Amaya's eyes feel. The phrase _getting lost_ pops into her brain, stupid and overdramatic and she's probably just tired from the day she's had, that's all. 

Zari's seen too much to get lost in anyone's anything, anymore. 

"Maybe," Zari says. "I don't want it to be too -" she frowns, makes a straight-line gesture with her hands against her hips, pulling down. She's not sure it translates, not sure how to explain that she can wear tight clothes but she's tired of it, after so long in the same thing. 

Amaya lights up, says, "Oh, sure." 

Amaya taps a few more buttons, and suddenly - impossibly - a shirt starts to appear. Gideon does something, a series of lights moving around the image and suddenly the lights start to whir. The shirt starts to emerge, lights seemingly spinning it out of thin air, starting from the shoulders down. It appears as it did in the hologram, as if it's draped around an invisible mannequin. But as the lights stop spinning, the shape of it falls away, and the finished shirt lands in a heap on the floor of the fabrication chamber. 

"That was -"

Amaya's grinning. She knows _exactly_ what that was - is showing off on purpose, and something about that makes Zari's stomach flutter. "Pretty neat, right?" 

She hands Zari the shirt, and it's perfect. Perfect softness, the kind that Zari wants to run her palms against over and over. Perfect shape, as she slips it on over of her t-shirt, the old one she can't wait to get rid of. It's big but not by too much, cozy and loose around her shoulders and hips. "Yeah," Zari says. She wants to keep the wonder out of her voice, not wanting to play her hand too much, but she's just - she's on a _magic time ship that can spin shirts out of air_. "Yeah, it's great." 

Amaya runs her hand down Zari's arm. There's two layers of fabric between them but Zari is half-convinced she can feel warmth from Amaya's touch. "You can make more anytime you like. If you need to." 

+

Zari does. 

Not anytime, of course. Years of textile rationing form habits that are hard to break. But after she wears the flannel shirt Amaya made for three days in a row, the team starts to notice. 

It's Nate that does it, an unintelligible joke that he mumbles over a mouthful of sugar-cereal. "How's it hanging, Zari Cobain?"

Amaya smiles at Zari across the breakfast table, eyes extra kind like she's trying to use them to apologize for him. 

Zari plucks at her sleeve, tries to focus on her waffles. 

(It takes her ten minutes after breakfast to look up the reference, and even after that long she can't decide if Nate means it as a compliment or a very pointed insult.)

Either way, Zari goes to the fabrication room on her own. She spends a lot more time talking to Gideon and a lot less time effortlessly pushing buttons, but there's nobody around to judge her for it. 

She picks a different color and a slightly different plaid - white on grey instead of green on blue - and she wears it out of the fabrication room, her other one tucked underneath her arm. 

Amaya catches her later that day, floating into Zari's bunk uninvited in a way that Zari's secretly learning to like. "Your shirt," Amaya says. She runs her arm down Zari's shoulder again, rubbing the fabric between her fingers at Zari's elbow and smiling. "You made another one." 

Zari shrugs. "Yeah, well. I thought I should." 

Amaya's hand keeps travelling, ends up on top of the cuff of Zari's sleeve. She fiddles with the fabric there, flipping it between her fingertips. Her fingers brush against the bare skin of Zari's wrist, and Zari does her best not to shiver. "I like it." 

+

Slowly, Zari fabricates a few more shirts. The blue and the grey are joined by red and black check, by a print that Gideon picks out with stripes of red in among the greens and blues, a purple one with black and grey stripes that Amaya tells her looks _distinguished._

Just as slowly, Amaya starts stealing them. 

It starts with borrowing - Amaya soft and sleepy-eyed on Zari's bed, shivering into Zari's side and whispering that she's cold. She's using her happiest, most playful eyes, her smile a little bit hungry like maybe she's not cold at all. "You want me to warm you up?" Zari asks. They've done this enough times that she can almost keep the wobble out of her voice, the little nervous tell at the idea of _warming Amaya up._

Zari's sitting on the bed. Amaya is draped across the sheets beside her, knees bent, her head level with Zari's hips. Amaya's fully dressed in her jeans and a shirt, but she shivers for dramatic effect when Zari glances at her. She's dragging her nails across the side of Zari's thigh, just firmly enough that Zari knows she's got ideas. 

When Zari makes eye contact, Amaya leans in and kisses Zari's leg. "I do," she says. 

They don't talk a lot, after that. 

But once they've both come back to themselves, they're like this: Zari lounging naked in bed, more sated than she's felt in ages and Amaya in a similar state of dress beside her. Zari's flannel is gone, tossed onto the floor because Amaya had whispered something about _playing with her tits_ , low and sweet, and that had felt pretty important at the time. 

Amaya reaches behind her, leaning off the edge of the bed to pick something up from the floor. She comes back with Zari's flannel shirt: the one she was wearing today, _distinguished_ purple. 

"That's mine," Zari says. She hears herself giggle, soft and a little dreamy. With anyone else she'd be embarrassed. With Amaya, it feels like the natural thing to do. 

Amaya slides the shirt on, lets the sleeves swallow her arms and the fronts drape across her breasts. Her hair is spilling over her shoulders in tight curls and it gets caught underneath the collar; she leaves it there. Her eyelashes flutter as she looks down at Zari, a laugh in her eyes. "It's mine, now." 

Amaya slides back under the covers. She shifts, and Zari hears the rustle of sheets before she feels Amaya wrap her legs around Zari's calf, pulling her close. Zari obliges, rolling across the bed to tuck herself in against Amaya's body. She slides her hands up the side of Amaya's hips, finds the soft curve of her waist hidden under cozy flannel. "Maybe we can wear it together," Zari whispers, kissing at the bare skin of Amaya's sternum. 

"Maybe," Amaya sighs, already arching into Zari's touch. 

+

"So, we've got some time to ourselves," Amaya says. 

They're standing in the kitchen, Zari with her back to the counter and Amaya in front of her, eyes full of promise. The rest of the team is off the ship. It's a rare gift: Amaya and Zari hanging back on the Waverider during a mission that, for once, doesn't feel like it will end in mortal peril. 

They've got time to themselves, and Amaya's eyes are already roaming, her expression full of plans. She steps into Zari's space. Zari feels that familiar flutter, the tug of desire that begins deep inside her when Amaya looks at her like that. "We do," Zari says. 

Amaya steps forward again, lets the front of her foot hit Zari's toes. She reaches for the hem of Zari's shirt - the red one - and tugs at each side, suggestive. "How should we keep ourselves occupied?"

Zari chuckles. "I'm guessing you have some ideas." 

Amaya's expression breaks, coyness giving way to a beautiful, eager grin. She slips both hands under Zari's hem and up, skimming both palms across the soft of Zari's stomach. The suddenness of it, the shift from platonic contact to Amaya cupping her breasts underneath her shirt in one movement makes Zari gasp. "What do you think so far?" Amaya asks. 

Zari pulls Amaya close. She wraps her arms around Amaya's back, trapping her with her hands up Zari's shirt. Amaya giggles at her, mouth buried in the collar of Zari's shirt. "I think they're alright," Zari whispers.


End file.
